


Get a Load of that Dreamboat

by kadabrafreak890



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 40s slang, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Steve likes making Tony smile, Stony - Freeform, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 13:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10968174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadabrafreak890/pseuds/kadabrafreak890
Summary: Steve didn’t often slip and start using outdated language. For the most part, he was picking up more modern slang and leaving his old phrases behind. But something about the way that Tony smiles when he hears that language is intoxicating.And Steve is hooked.Or Steve uses 40s slang to make Tony smile.





	Get a Load of that Dreamboat

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! My first Stony/Superhusbands fic in a while. There was a post on tumblr I had seen and tagged as a headcanon a while ago where Steve uses 40s slang to make Tony smile. And thus, this fic was born.
> 
> All mistakes are my own as this was not beta read.
> 
> Enjoy!

  Steve settled back against the sturdy elevator wall, puffing out a breath. His hair was matted to his forehead after a three hour long sparring session in the gym where he switched between fighting with Natasha, Clint and Thor. As Thor was about to pin Steve to the mat, JARVIS interrupted their fight, letting Steve know that Tony would like to see him. It didn’t take long for Steve to wrap up his session and start down to the workshop.

  Steve had realized quite a bit ago that he had feelings for his teammate, but hadn’t yet gathered the courage to say or do anything about it. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to. They had come quite a long way and he would hate to lose Tony’s friendship.

  The elevator doors slid open and jarred Steve out of his own head. He stepped out and was welcomed by Steven Tyler’s voice singing _Dream On._ JARVIS let him into the workshop and the music automatically slid down to a no longer deafening volume.

  “Hey, Steve, glad you could get here so quickly.” Tony greeted him without turning around. He was sitting at his worktable, feet barely skimming the ground because of his tall stool. JARVIS had some schematics for Nat’s Widow Bites pulled up, though Tony paid them no mind as he hunched over his worktable. Steve took a moment to stare at the strip of skin between the hem of Tony’s shirt and the waistband of his jeans before approaching.

  “Of course,” Steve replied. Belatedly, he hoped he didn’t smell too bad after his stint in the gym. He stood a step behind Tony, gazing up at the schematics and making a futile attempt to figure out what exactly he was looking at. “What’s up?”

  “Well I—,” Tony spun around and stopped when he came face to chest with a sweaty Steve Rogers. A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Hope I didn’t interrupt your workout. I’d hate to be the reason that Captain America can’t…perform.”

  “We’re good on the performance front,” Steve responded, not missing the meaning behind the engineer’s comment. He smiled, easy, at Tony, eyes sliding over his bare arms, defined muscles clearly visible in his sleeveless black shirt. “You were saying?”

  “Right.” Tony twisted to pick up something on his table and turned back, holding a small and thin object in his hands. “Well, Nat was airing some grievances about her Widow Bites. They’re great for close combat, which she normally engages in, but when she’s trying to disable someone from a slightly longer range, they’re basically useless. We can’t have that, right?”

   “Right, we can’t have that. Your name is on our equipment after all, we can’t have you creating useless tech.”

  Tony grinned, reaching out and patting Steve’s chest. He definitely did not notice the strength beneath his fingers. “Glad you understand. So, I created a projectile of sorts. Nat can fire it from a distance—it’s about the size of a sewing needle—from up to 50 feet and it will disable the person for about 30 seconds. Not anything serious, just temporarily paralyzed. What do you think?”

  Tony held the device out for Steve and he carefully took it from Tony’s grasp. He looked at it, twirling it between his fingers, noting the lightweight. “Do you have a name yet?”

  “Ah, no not yet.” Tony ran a hand through his dark hair, frowning when his hand got stuck part way through. “I got so excited about it that I wanted to show you.” Steve raised an eyebrow and Tony huffed out a breath. “You know, being the team leader and all.”

  “Team leader. Right.”

  “Thoughts?” Steve closely inspected the weapon once more before reaching past Tony to put it back on the worktable.

  “You sure know how to cook with gas,” Steve said quietly, looking at Tony with soft blue eyes. This man was so brilliant, and deft and…

  “What did you just say?” Tony’s eyebrows furrowed together, but his mouth fought to hide a smile.

  “Oh, I uh, it’s a phrase. A 40’s phrase.”

  “What does it mean?” Steve stuffed his hands into the pockets of his loose gym shorts and averted his eyes.

  “I think you can figure that out.”

* * *

 

  Tony shuffled into the kitchen, clearly sleep deprived after a long night in the workshop. He shoved a coffee cup under the spout and pressed a button, waiting for the machine to brew a cup. His eyes flickered over to Steve and he muttered a good morning before turning back to the coffee machine.

Steve watched Tony over the rim of his glass of orange juice, smiling into his drink as he took in Tony’s appearance. His greasy t-shirt was a bit short, revealing his midriff. His sweatpants were loose around his legs, but they hugged the curve of his ass.

  “Get a load of that dreamboat.” Steve mumbled around a bite of waffles. Tony turned to look at him, like his ears had picked up the words, but he got distracted by a full cup of coffee and said nothing about it.

* * *

 

Steve didn’t often slip and start using outdated language. For the most part, he was picking up more modern slang and leaving his old phrases behind. But something about the way that Tony smiles when he hears that language is intoxicating.

And Steve is hooked.

* * *

 

You almost hit me, fuckwad!” Clint and Tony stood nearly nose to nose, fury crackling from each of them. Not only had the enemy gotten away, but some of the Avengers barely came out unscathed.

  Bruce had gone down to his lab to fully calm down. Everyone knew to leave him be. Natasha was nursing a mildly sprained ankle. She sat in the corner of the living room, sipping a cup of tea and decidedly ignoring the shouting match in front of her. Steve was seated on the couch, massaging his temples.

  One of Tony’s repulsor blasts managed to get redirected by one of the enemies shield, and it narrowly avoided hitting Clint. It did end up searing a hole in his quiver and rendering his arrows mostly useless. Because he was versed in close combat, Clint used what was left of his arrows, partially charred pointy sticks, to rid the enemies in his area.

  Understandably, he wasn’t very happy about needing to do so.

  “I wasn’t aiming for you asswipe!” Tony spat back. Steve noticed that Tony’s hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew that he wouldn’t strike his teammate, but he didn’t like how far this was getting. “If I was, believe me, I wouldn’t have missed.”

  “Fucking bastard, I swear I...”

  Steve shot up from his seat on the couch and stepped between his teammates, hoping some physical distance would help diffuse the fight. “Jesus, hang it up you two. This is ridiculous. We were all fighting the enemy, you guys know that. Don’t let your anger for the escaped bad guy start a pointless argument.”

  The two men stared at him, both looking a little confused, almost like he hadn’t spoken English. Slowly, the tension in the room fizzled. Funny enough, it seemed like it fizzled at the same time that Tony began grinning. Steve loved it when his eyes crinkled up at the corners like that.

  “What’d you say?” The engineer was waiting expectantly for his answer, Clint looking just as amused at his side, and Steve was forced to mentally replay what he had just said.

  “Ah, uh, hang it up. It means quit it.”

  “Mm.” Tony was still smiling at him, brown eyes warm. “More 40’s lingo?”

  Before Steve could answer, Natasha spoke up from the corner. “Oh, leave the old man alone. He can’t help it.” Steve groaned.

“I hate all of you.”

* * *

 

“Once Bucky and I snuck into my ma’s alcohol and drank an entire bottle of Gordon’s Gin. Of course, we spewed half of it back up.” Steve leaned back into the couch and Natasha raised a curious eyebrow at that story.

“You snuck something?”

“Why does everyone think I’ve never done anything wrong in my life? I mean, jeez…”

“It’s because you look like apple pie, Cap.” Clint tried to get more comfortable in the chair that he was sharing with Natasha. She didn’t let him.

“How do I look like a dessert?”

“Look Steve,” Tony started, sliding his arm around Steve’s shoulders and gesturing with his other hand. “You’ve been Captain America for a million years.” Steve frowned, but Tony continued. “You project this wholesome image—especially when you look…you know, as you do—so people come to expect certain things from you. Like you’ve only ever done right.”

“I’m not fooling, guys!” Steve protested and Tony smirked at his choice of words, laughing a little and shaking his head.

“Are you sure you’re not…fooling?” Tony looked at Steve with a glance that seemed somewhat sultry and Steve had to shift his gaze elsewhere.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Steve pressed his lips together, stubborn, and Tony laughed once more before telling a story of his own.

* * *

 

The Avengers were asked to attend a benefit for the Mount Sinai Children’s Hospital of NY. Of course, they had to go. Steve was busy talking to one of the nurses at the hospital when he saw Tony step out onto the balcony. He politely excused himself from the conversation to follow.

Steve stepped out onto the balcony and the door shut softly behind him, silencing the sounds of the party. Tony was the only one out there, crisp white suit jacket glowing in the moonlight of the evening. It gave way nicely to perfectly pressed (and perfectly tailored) black slacks.

Tony sighed and leaned against the stone wall, gazing over the New York night life below them. He twirled the Sprite around in his glass and then took a sip, noticing Steve out of the corner of his eye.

“Admiring the view?” He asked.

_Busted_ , Steve thought, stepping up to stand next to the shorter man. “Yeah. It’s looking pretty spiffy tonight.” Tony laughed, turning to face Steve a bit more. Steve couldn’t resist the urge to straighten Tony’s bow tie.

“Thanks.”

“Who said I was talking about you?” Steve quipped, eyes mischievous. Tony shook his head and laughed again.

“Got me there.” Tony took another sip from his soda, which was a bit watered down now as all the ice had melted. He turned his attention back out to the skyline, listening to the sounds of the streets below.

“Doing okay?” Steve asked, leaning against the wall and sliding a bit closer. Their forearms touched and neither one of them made an effort to move.

“Yeah. It just sucks that no matter how much money we, or anyone else, donate to this hospital, we can’t guarantee that these children will get better.”

“It does suck. I guess that all we can do is ensure that these kids have a safe world to come back to, if they get better.” Tony looked up at Steve, briefly, before taking another drink.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Tony bumped Steve’s shoulder with his own. “You know, the view is pretty good tonight.”

“It is beautiful.” Steve glanced out to the city beyond, smiling a little.

“Who said I was talking about _that_ view?” Startled, Steve’s head snapped over to look at Tony. Tony took a sip of his drink and smiled.

* * *

 

  “Hey, that’s pretty good.” Steve shot forward, startled by the sudden voice behind him. He slapped his sketchbook shut and whipped around to face the handsome engineer.

  “Oh thanks.” He gave Tony a small smile, watching him as he walked around the couch and sat next to Steve.

  “Why close it? I already saw the drawing. Can I get a better look?” Tony waited patiently for a response from him and Steve finally nodded. Their hands brushed as Tony took the book and opened it to the page Steve was on.

  It was clear that he was part way through an action drawing of Clint, knocking an arrow. His biceps were full and muscles strong. His eyes looked somewhere off the page, expression stern with concentration.

  “You make Clint look better than he is.” Steve laughed.

  “That’s swell of you to say.” Steve looked over just to see Tony’s smile and he wasn’t disappointed.

  “Maybe you could draw me sometime?” Tony’s question was innocent enough, but only Steve knew that there was almost half a sketchbook filled with drawings of Tony.

  “Sure.” He replied, swallowing hard. “Yeah, sometime.”

* * *

 

“Jesus, Tony, you need to stop being so goddamn reckless!” Steve paced about Tony’s workshop, his hands scratching at his jeans to keep them occupied.

  “I wasn’t being reckless!” Tony took the ice pack off his temple so his glare at Steve wouldn’t be obstructed by the object. “I was doing what I had to do so we could put the battle away!”

  “God, you’re such a fat-head sometimes.” That 40’s phrase was a slip. Tony looked so offended that Steve nearly apologized.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Put the ice pack back on your head.” Steve picked his shield up from where it was, leaning against a wall, and holstered it on his back. “It means you’re a numbskull Tony, and your disregard for your own life is infuriating.”

  “I—” Steve cut him off with a wave.

  “I’m not done! Stop flapping your lips and listen to what I’m saying. You’re on a team, you no longer have to run solo. You need to realize that sooner rather than later.”

  “Oh yeah? Or what?” Steve didn’t feel as though he needed to respond to that and left.

* * *

 

  A knock came at Steve’s open bedroom door and he looked up from his sketchbook to see Tony leaning against the door frame. “Hey,” he said, with a small smile. “You busy?”

  “Not with anything that can’t wait.” Steve closed his sketchbook and set aside his charcoal pencil, hoping that he wasn’t smudging the drawing of Tony sleepily drinking his morning coffee.

  “I wanted to apologize for the other day. For throwing myself in the line of fire when you felt it wasn’t necessary.”

  “Because it wasn’t necessary.” Tony opened his mouth to retort and sighed instead, stepping inside Steve’s room.

  “Okay if I sit here?” Tony gestured to an empty space on Steve’s bed and the blond nodded. Tony looked as if he had something important to say and it wasn’t often that he struggled with his words. Steve folded his hands and kept quiet, waiting patiently.

  “Look, I think I uh…I’ve come to carry a torch…for you. Which is why I threw myself in the way—I didn’t want you to get hurt. My suit can take a lot more than yours can, so I could guarantee that I’d be fine. I couldn’t guarantee that you would be.” Steve stared at him, blue eyes unblinking. Tony squirmed a bit. “Did you understand that? Man, never trust Google with things like this…”

  “No I…I understood just fine.” Steve’s voice was quiet. His heart felt like it was growing, taking up all the room in his chest and not leaving any for his lungs to take in air. “I just, I had no idea.”

  “Well, I was trying not to make it obvious.” Tony sighed, fingers picking at a stray thread on Steve’s comforter. “Lest you hate me or something.”

  “I could never,” Steve breathed, sitting up and scooting closer to Tony. He placed an unsteady hand on Tony’s thigh. “I’ve been stuck on you for quite a while. I didn’t want to risk losing you if you didn’t feel the same way.”

  “No need for you to worry there.” Tony put his own hand over the one on his thigh and finally met Steve’s eyes, smiling a little. “Sorry I’m a fat-head.” Steve tossed his head back and laughed, the phrase catching him off guard.

  “You’re more of a grandstand, but that I can live with.” Before Tony could ask what that was, Steve leaned in and kissed him.

* * *

 

  A few long hours later, after Tony had detached Steve’s lips from his own (funny it wasn’t the other way around), he asked JARVIS to look up ‘grandstand.’

  “Hey, I am not a show off!”


End file.
